


Withering

by blanket



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, Magic, Nymphs & Dryads, and other magical creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 18:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14939643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanket/pseuds/blanket
Summary: With the winter approaching and something attacking the lumberjacks, some desperate measures had to be taken. By entering the enshrined woods, Brigitte starts a chain of events that might result in solving the villagers' problems - or doom them all.





	1. The Encounter

A dry twig snapped under the pressure of a boot. The sound of it startled a bird; the animal stopped chirping and flew away, beating its wings frantically. Brigitte stopped dead in her tracks, clenching her jaw. An axe flung across her back felt heavier than ever. She adjusted the stap, for the umpteenth time since she entered the woods, and looked around, making sure the bird didn't get anyone's attention. Only then she dared to let out a sigh. Not a single person in sight, only some more birds and bugs, as usual. Nothing to worry about. She gathered courage and went on, dedicating more attention to watching the ground for any more twigs or dry leaves, subconsciously placing her left hand on the strap holding the axe.

The sunshine was breaking through the leaves of the trees, bright pools of light spilled on the grass and fallen leaves covering the ground. The air was filled with the usual sounds found in forests, but Brigitte tried to stay wary of her surroundings, turning her eyes left and right. Every now and then she turned around, so sure she was being followed or at least watched by someone hiding in the trees, but each and every time there was no one. Twice she thought she caught a movement in the corner of her eye, maybe a silhouette dashing behind a bush, but the longer she stared at that direction, the more sure she was becoming it was just her mind, playing tricks on her. She had to go just a little further, just few steps deeper.

A sigh of relief escaped Brigitte's lungs when she finally reached her destination. She touched a trunk of the tree, a mark clearly visible from far away - a bright red streak of paint, higher than any animal could've reached. Unmistakeable. Her father was right, as always - she should be able to bring this tree home without anyone's help.

"It's not that risky if you go alone," he said when she tried to explain just how dangerous this venture could be. She knew he was right, he always was. His overprotectivness wouldn't let him send her here if he wasn't perfectly sure it was the safest option. More people would attract unwanted attention and all of the other people from their village capable to help her were assigned to the main logging, where they simply _had_ to move in groups, this time for protection. Besides, if one believed in the old tales, the dwellers of the enshrined forest were more humane for young girls. _Hopefully._ No one has seen any nonhuman here in the past decades; but one had to admit that the villagers didn't need to wander as far from the edge of the woods as now.

The tree's bark was rough under Brigitte's fingers as she run them down the trunk. _Please, let it be uninhabited_ , she prayed silently, not daring to look around. She came this far and if anything scared her now, she wouldn't dare come back home empty-handed. They needed wood, be it for sale or for their own comfort during the long winter, especially now, when it was so hard to get. It would be a dishonor for the whole Lindholm family if she ran away.

But the tree was so young... As far as she could tell, it was maybe ten years old at best, basically a baby. It should have the opportunity to grow strong, to see the seasons change many times before it would fall and become replaced with another young, lively sapling. On the other hand, it was either this tree or her whole family and Brigitte knew what she had to do.

She slipped the strap off from across her torso and stretched her arms. She glanced around - a quick look had to be enough, simply because she didn't have courage for anything more - and grabbed her axe, teeth clenched, eyes steady. She raised the axe, ready to strike the trunk and do what she was sent here to do.

"Oh, you've got to be _kidding_ me!"

Something pulled the axe at the exact same moment when Brigitte was about to whap it. The pull was too strong and unexpected for Brigitte to react. Before she could blink, she was lying on the ground with something - someone - pressing her chest. She pushed the attacker off with an agile move of her arm combined with a body roll, clearly surprising the assailant, because the weight disappeared. She scrambled to her feet, ready to dodge another attack from any side, but a new blow didn't come. Brigitte looked at around for her axe - to no effect.

"Looking for this?" A voice came from someone standing a few steps in front of her. She raised her gaze.

An arm's length in front of her stood a short - even petite - girl, but not much younger than Brigitte herself. The girl's dress, which must have been highly impractical in the woods, was a shade of young spring grass and flowed genlty even though no wind blew. Her long, dark hair flowed barely noticeably as well, but what caught Brigitte's attention was the hard look in the girl's dark eyes - fierce and determined. Her right hand was holding Brigitte's axe, while the left was resting on her hip, as if the girl didn't care if she carried a potentially dangerous weapon. But something else was bugging Brigitte's mind and only after a moment she managed to put a finger on it. The girl's skin and hair had some sort of green tint to them, definitely unnatural. _Very natural_ , a thought ran through Brigitte's head, _because she's not human._

"You've got some nerve!" The girl spat out, rubbing the back of her left hand on her cheek, not bothered by Brigitte's silence. "First you poison the trees and then you have the balls to come here to cut the healthy ones down! Even though we gave you the permission to cut out the old forest!" Her eyes shone brightly with rage, so Brigitte took a step back.

"Wait, wait!" She raised her hands up. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

The girl's brows furrowed when she sized Brigitte up. "I don't believe you," she decided eventually, crossing her arms.

"Please, I just came here to gather some wood for my family. We won't survive the winter without it, no matter if we use it to warm ourselves or sell it to other villagers to afford some food." Brigitte's voice was pleading and while she didn't like the sound of it, it seemed to work. The strange girl relaxed a little, though her eyes were still fierce and focused on Brigitte, watching her every move carefully. Her small hand still held the axe, implying some sort of a threat.

"Hmpf," she huffed, "I have no idea how this whole 'sell' thing works, but you do sound sincere." The girl paused for a moment. "Let's say I believe that _you_ didn't infect the trees. What about other humans? Those 'villagers'?"

"Think about it," Brigitte responded quickly, "why would they do this? We all need warmth to survive and planks to repair our houses, or carts, or anything! It makes no sense for us to poison your forest, especially when something is attacking the lumberjacks in the old forest just outside the village!"

The girl opened her mouth, her eyes now wide. "So it truly wasn't you... Any of you..." Her whisper was barely more than a whiff of a wind. She dropped the axe.

"Look, I..." Brigitte made a step in her direction.

"Go." The girl looked to the ground.

"But-"

"Just go."

Her eyes on the girl, Brigitte made a few quick steps forward and snatched her axe, along with the straps. Only then she [urned around and ran as fast as she could.

* * *

"A girl, you say?" Torbjörn muttered, scratching his beard. The sun shone on his face and thanks to that his facial hair looked like it was glowing.

"Yea," sighed Brigitte, clenching her cup tighter. Her mother put a hand on her back in a reassuring gesture. They were sitting in by the old, beaten up kitchen table, the usual domestic noises and familiar scents surrounding Brigitte, almost successfully driving her attention away from the bizzare encounter in the forest. Almost. She tried to focus on the taste of the tea in her mouth.

"I should've foreseen it." Her father jumped off his chair and waddled to the window. "I'm gonna go and warn the folks around, we need to be prepared." He sighed. "Ingrid, please, tell the kids to stay close to home" His voice was a bit quieter this time.

"Of course," she said gently and left the kitchen. Torbjörn tunred to his daughter.

"I'm sorry I came back empty-handed, papa." She ran a finger down one of many scratches on the tabletop.

"Don't mention it." Torbjörn waved his hand. "I'm glad you came back safe. But... It's a bad sign that a dryad was hostile torwards you."

Brigitte shook her head maybe a little too promptly. "She wasn't hostile," she protested, "just protecting her home. We would act the same if anyone attacked our village, wouldn't we?"

Her father leered at her. "Maybe you're right. Doesn't change the fact that we need the supplies." He wobbled torwards the door. "I'll go and tell the boys in the lumbermill not to hold their breaths. I'll be back before midnight." And with that, he left the house. Brigtte sat at the table all alone, looking at the steaming tea in her cup. The thoughts of someone or something poisoning the trees in the dryad's forest was terryfying. Who would do something like that.

_I wanted to hurt that tree, too_ , she thought but immidiately shook her head. _No. It was a different case._ Still, something in the back of her mind didn't want to let go and she still saw the picture of the dryad's determined gaze every time she closed her eyes.


	2. The Foray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for how long it took me to update this chapter but I hope you won't be disappointed! Enjoy!

"Don't worry!" Reinhardt's booming voice filled the air as if it was claiming the space between the trees surrounding them. Brigitte wasn't sure if she was grateful for that or not - on one hand, whatever could be hiding in the shadows or under the bushes probably ran away when it heard the giant man's tone, but the sound also drew attention of things they'd rather avoid. She wouldn't dare to point that out out loud; Reinhardt was too sure of himself and his ability to protect her, even though his glory days were way past him. He still liked to pretend he was the main guardian of the village, turning a literal blind eye on the fact that this duty has been taken over by the young.

"We'll be back home safe and sound! Just you see!" His laugh was even louder than his regular speaking voice, which was barely possible. "Your father told me about that nasty thing you saw the last time and I promised him I won't let anything happen to you!"

Brigitte rolled her eyes, grateful that Reinhardt was walking a few steps ahead of her. "You know I can handle it just right," she snickered, adjusting the strap holding her axe on her back. By her side was dangling a modified flail with a short handle and weighted head, her weapon of choice. The forest wasn't even a tiny bit as safe as last year.

"Of course! I taught you myself!" He raised his fist as if to confirm his words. "I remember when you were so small, you barely reached my knee, but you already wanted to be just like me! To fight! _Fow gwowy!_ " His laughter resonated through the forest. Brigitte was glad they were alone and no one could see her ears turn deep red.

"Anyway!" she chimed in before Reinhardt could get even more into the old story. "She wasn't nasty. The dryad, I mean. She was... kinda nice. When it comes to looks, I mean..." She fell silent, one word more would probably be too much. Reinhardt looked over his right shoulder to glance at her with his good eye.

"Don't be fooled, kid," he suddenly lost all of the playfulness from his voice, "those are usually _nice_ like _that_ just to gain your trust. And before you can tell, you're knee-deep in trouble."

Brigitte bit her lip. She was ready to defend the dryad further, but a fight with her godfather was the last thing she needed right now. They went on in silence, only leaves crumbling and twigs snapping beneath their feet. Finally, they reached the marked tree; the paint daub was irregular, made in hurry, which made Brigitte wonder if the person who left it wasn't just waving their brush in panic while running away from whatever could've been attacking their group. Before she could make a joke about it, Reinhardt spoke, the good-natured tone back in his voice.

"Get ready, kid! That's one big tree and we need to get back to the edge by sunset!" He stretched and put out his axe from a loop by his belt. Brigitte did the same, slipping the strap off and looked at the tree with a critical stare. She walked around the trunk while her companion checked the area for any dangers.

"We should start here," she beckoned the man with a wave of her hand and pointed at a spot on the trunk that any inexpert person wouldn't be able to tell from any other place on the tree's bark. Reinhardt nodded, smiling proudly.

"A quick learner, aren't you," he boomed, taking a step back. "I'll take the first bout keeping the watch, you start the cutting." Reinhardt grasped his axe a little tighter in a way Brigitte barely noticed and decided not to mention. He was just as afraid as she was and there was no use in pointing that out. All she could do was nod and get to work.

The first couple of hits were the hardest, she knew that and prepared herself for the knockback. The axe raised, muscles tense, Brigitte clenched her jaw and lowered the tool. It dug into the trunk without much problem. She looked around, though Reinhardt didn't seem alarmed. The forest was as peaceful as it could be, though something was wrong, she could sense it under her skin. Deciding not to think too much about it, she tore the axe out from the trunk, raising it again for another strike. Before she could cut the tree again, she noticed something dark leaking out of the carving she just made. Slowly, Brigitte crouched down and touched the substance against her better judgement. Despite looking like a liquid, the matter was more like smoke, curling around Brigitte's calloused fingers and flowing gently in the air when disturbed.

"Reinhardt..." she began and stopped abruptly. It hit her; the silence was almost overwhelming but she didn't notice the lack of sounds until her own voice dispersed amid the trees. No birds chirping. No leaves crumbling. No wind swooshing. Nothing but the man's breath, weirdly loud in those circumstances. She stood up.

"Reinhardt, we need to-"

Before she could finish, something rumbled in a bush nearby. Her godfather raised a hand, commanding her to stay where she was. He made a couple steps towards the bush, while Brigitte watched, each hair on her body stading up. The bush moved again and she heard a growl; like a strom in the distance, unstoppable, unavoidable. It was wrong, almost unnatural, as if the creature making the sound wasn't just an animal, but an alien force. She wanted to warn Reinhardt, grab his arm and make him run, go back to safety of the village. She didn't manage to.

A large, dark shape sprung out of the bush, roaring, straight at Reinhardt. He screamed, more from surprise than anything else. The man tried recoiling, but managed to make only one step before the shape - a wolf-like beast with a jet-black fur and gleaming eyes - caught his arm, the one weilding the axe, with its sharp teeth. Once again, Reinhardt yelped and made another step, overwhelmed by the weight of the creature. He tried to hit it with his other hand, but missed, wavering even more.

Brigitte knew she was risking a lot when she put out her flail out of its loop, but she couldn't stay away from the fight and watch without doing anything to help. In no time, she whipped her weapon, hitting the flank of the beast. It flew to the side, thereby letting go of Reinhardt's forearm. The old man grabbed the ripped skin, trying to stop the bleeding. He scrambled back, out of the wolf's reach, while Brigitte tried to focus the animal's attention on herself, shielding her godfather from more harm.

"Come on," she growled at the wolf, bracing herself for an attack. The beast managed to get over the first blow and now stood there, fur puffed out, teeth bared. Some dark, smokey substance, probably the same thing that was seeping out of the tree trunk, now pooled around the wolf's massive paws.

Brigitte squared her shoulders. She desperately wanted to appear larger and stronger than she really was; killing the animal seemed wrong, especially after her encounter with the dryad. She didn't have to fight, to risk, she only needed to buy some time for Reinhardt so he could back away to safety. Nonetheless, she was ready to cause trouble.

But the wolf had plans of its own.  It threw its head back and howled loudly, the sound of which sent shivers down Brigitte's spine. Before she could react, the beast disappeared in the shadows between the trees, melting with them completly. There was no way of telling if it was gone for good or just lurking, waiting for another chance to attack, but Brigitte - against her better judgement - decided to not care. She had to take care of Reinhardt and walk both of them out of there before something worse happens.

In a blink of an eye she was kneeling in front of the her godfather, ripping  the hem of her shirt. The blood was all over Reinhardt's forearm staining everything red. The man tried his best with stopping the blood flow by holdingg down the wound, but apparentaly it wasn't enough. Brigitte ended up ripping away almost whole bottom half of her shirt - despite Reinhardt's protests - before she was content enough with her creation to help him stand up.

The walk back to the edge of the tree line, albeit short, was deeply exhausting. Brigitte carried both of their axes and her flail, while also trying to support Reinhardt's weight. With every step they took, he seemed more tired, sometimes barely conscious. His wounded arm went limp and the blood heavily soaked through the cloth of the makeshift dressing, staining a sling red and eventually dripping at the ground. The skin visible through the bandages was sickly purple, vein-like pattern darkening as it spread further from the bite, up Reinhardt's muscular arm. Brigitte turned her head back every now and then, making sure they weren't being followed - by the weird, shadowy wolf or any other hungry creature lurking in the woods. Soon she had to abandon this measure of safety as keeping her godfather upright and making steps at the same time became harder.

Reinhardt was heavily leaning onto her when they finally reached the gate of the village and before Brigitte could call for help, two men took Reinhardt from her. They led him to the Lindholm's house, while some kid ran to get the healer, and Brigitte could do nothing but face her mother's grief.

\--

Ingrid handed yet another clean bandage to Ana. The medic took it without a word and covered the ointment she has spread on Reinhardt's wound. Torbjörn has just left the house, once again venturing to the nearby town where he would try to commute his machines for wood or something to eat. As much as he would want to be there for his dear friend, he knew he was more of a help trying to sustain his family. "Reinhardt will be hungry like a beast when he wakes up," he mumbled before leaving.

"Is he going to be okay?" Brigtte was sitting in the back of the room, shifting in her chair every now and then, sometimes to see more of what Ana was doing, sometimes - the opposite. She was still dressed in her ripped shirt and muddy pants, hands covered in dried blood. There was a red smear on her cheek which she wasn't aware of, but she didn't let anyone focus their attention on her when Reinhardt was in need of help.

"I don't know, child," Ana sighed, collecting her tools. The metal, bone and old, dried wood clicked gently when she put them in her worn bag. "It's something I have never seen before." She folded her arms, taking a step back to take a better look at her unconscious patient. "There's something dark in this wound. Something not natural. I have no idea how it's going to heal."

Brigitte didn't say anything, but knew that Ana meant "if". _If_ it's going to heal. _If_ Reinhardt is going to survive. She saw a sad glint in her mother's eyes and knew that she thought about the same thing. None of them dared to bother Ana any more. Ingrid gave the old healer a small package - a payment for her seervices, containing some food and small tools, crafted by Torbjörn. The older woman nodded and left without saying a word. Only after that, Ingrid dropped onto a chair next to Reinhardt's bed and hid her face in her hands. Her arms shivered and through the mist of triedness and whelming Brigitte noticed that she was crying. She walked over to her mother and gently put a hand on her back, suddenly aware of how dirty her clothes were and not daring to hug Ingrid.

"I'm gonna figure it out, ma," she said in a hushed voice. Only a shudder as an answer. _I can't let anything like that happen again,_ she thought, determinated. The lumberjacks so far came back scared, maybe scratched, but never with wounds so deep and possibly lethal. Even Ana, with her medicine knowledge racked up from Angela, coulnd't help. Brigitte's stomach churned at the thought of everyone slowly dying, either from the wounds, hunger or cold in the winter. She clenched her teeth.

Before she could think it through, she stormed out of the house, seemingly forgetting about how tired she was. Her legs moved without her involvement, carrying her to the sacred woods.


	3. The Solution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm really sorry for how long it took me to update this fic, but I promise, I haven't abandoned it! My personal life is taking a lot of my attention right now, but I'm hopeful it's going to get better soon and I will be able to post more regularly. Thank you for consideration. ❤️

She didn't really remember how she got there. Of course, she knew she ran - her lungs were burning and her legs were shaking, as if her body wanted to remind her what happened - but honestly the last thing she consciously remembered was a cold doorknob in her hand. The memories of racing through the forest were drowned in helplessness and fear, overwhelming her to the point where it felt like waking up from a dream when Brigitte found herself standing in the same place where she was supposed to cut down a tree not so long ago. She felt dizzy both from everything that has happened during her foray with Reinhardt and running so far, so fast. She looked around, but she didn't see anyone.

"I know you're here!" The echo carried her voice through the woods, warping it and making it sound both angrier and weepy. She must've scared off every possible animal in the closest radius, but she hardly cared. Her only purpose was to get attention of the girl - the dryad - she met not so long ago. Brigitte looked around, desperate, but she was alone still, the shadows around growing with every minute as the sun was setting.

"I know you're here..." Brigitte's voice was weaker this time, stained with the faintest trace of tears. Her shoulders dropped and so did her head. Coming here was a mistake; she should be sitting by Reinhardt's bed and helping her mother take care of his wounds. She shivered, suddenly overtaken by the cold and weakness, clenching her fists.

"You're crying." A voice, strange yet somehow familiar, murmured somewhere from the left. The sound, though faint, almost made Brigitte jump out of her skin. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide as she tried to find the girl in the falling semidarkness. It wasn't hard; the dryad had some kind of glow about her, as if her skin and hair captured and reflected the last rays of the sun just to make her more etheral. Her dress was as green as before, gently flowing despite the lack of wind.

She made a cautious step torwards Brigitte, worry and curiosity clear on her face. She looked as if she wanted to come closer, but stopped herself; she straightened her frame and made a serious face. "You shouldn't be there," the dryad said, voice stern. 

"I-I know." Brigitte only now dared to raise her hand and touch her own cheek - she felt a trace of wetness. Tears. She didn't even notice. Did she cry all the way out here? Or did she start once she reached the forest? It was hard to tell and she couldn't be bothered to wonder. She blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable dampness off her lashes. "There is something deeply wrong with the trees," she rasped, looking the girl straight in the eye.

"Yeah, I told you that," the dryad scoffed, crossing her arms on her chest. Through the mist of the still-present tears Brigitte noticed that the girl wanted to look tough, just like she did in front of that beast before today, but the demeanor didn't reach her face, not fully. Her eyes  betrayed her completely, but the tiredness was taking a toll on Brigitte and she didn't feel like pointing it out. She took a step back, leaning against one of the trees. 

"I meant the ones we cut. Used to cut. I- Me and my godfather, we went to cut one down today and something attacked us." A cold shiver ran through her body at the memory of a pair of glowing eyes and smoke. She wrapped her arms around herself. "My godfather is sick. This thing bit him and the wound..." A shaky breath. "He might not live. I need to find a cure." She raised her eyes, until now glued to the underbush, to look at the dryad. Foolish hope was raising deep inside her, even though she tried to conceal it. Despite that, several scenarios were already unveiling in her head, all of them involving the dryad agreeing to aid her in this quest. But there was silence between them and the longer it lasted, the more prominent was an internal battle inside the forest dweller's head. Her eyes were stuck to the ground.

"I have no reason to help you." The girl choked up after a prolonged moment. "I owe you nothing."

Brigitte coud feel the whole world shatter around her. The feeling of betrayal clutched her stomach. Deep inside she knew the dryad was right, they had nothing in common besides being affected by the situation and thinking that was enough to bring them together was naive on Brigitte's side. Still, she shook her head slightly with disbelief.

"Don't you want this... this curse to end? Don't you want to save your kind? Are you going to just sit there and do nothing?" With every word, her voice grew louder, her anger and sense of injustice finally finding some kind of a vent. Was it unfair against the dryad? Maybe, but Brigitte found it to be working for her until the other girl's eyes darkened. The dryad stepped closer, her fists balled as if she was ready to turn Brigitte into a mush.

"Don't. You. Dare," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Those things that attacked you? I've been driving them away from here for who knows how long. All by myself. And _you_ ," she pointed a finger straight into Brigitte's chest, "don't have the right to tell me what _I_   _want_ to _do_." The dryad huffed, not letting herself relax from her battle stance, measuring the village girl with her angry stare. Brigitte held it, responding with her own one, determined and, in a sense, pleading. All signs of tiredness flew away, replaced by perseverance and focus on the goal. A long while has passed before she broke the tense silence.

"I'm going to head out anyway. It's up to you if you join me or not." She tried her best not to let her voice crack. It was a cheap move, she knew it. Her nieces and nephews used this technique to bait one another into doing something absurdly stupid and there was no way the dryad would fall for it - she was some kind of a lesser deity after all, not a moody seven-year-old. Not getting any reaction from the girl, Brigitte turned on her heel and attempted to walk away with pride, despite the fact she was crying just minutes ago. Chin high, as if she wasn't wearing ripped clothes covered in blood and dirt. In the back of her mind a thought of her parents formed, both of them standing next to unconscious Reinhardt. She was going to save him, save them, all of them.

"Wait."

Brigitte looked over her shoulder. The girl's hand, reaching torwards her, fell down right after she turned around. The dryad looked defeated, like she lost a battle with herself. "I need to show you something."

She led Brigitte between the trees' trunks, not looking back even once to check if the villager was still following her. The tension, rising up to this point, started to falter.

"I'm sorry," Brigitte said, forcing her way through the undergrowth, which was thicker in this part of the woods. "About what I said earlier." She wasn't sure if the dryad heard her or not until she caught a quiet "me too" after a heartbeat.

Suddenly, the forest deity stopped and if Brigitte wasn't keeping her distance, she would've bumped into her. She couldn't see anything unusual in their surroundings, but before she opened her mouth to ask the girl about anything, the dryad approached one of the nearest trees - an elm tree, as Brigitte noted.

"This is my tree," the girl said quietly, caressing the rough bark of the trunk. Brigitte made a step torwards it, being wary not to commint a faux pas. "I can't go very far away from it." There was something melancholic in her voice, a wistful note just on the edge of her tone. A gentle sigh escaped her mouth. "If I could, I would go with you without thinking twice."

"Can... Can I touch it?"

Brigitte didn't dare to move until the girl gave a small nod. Only then she carefully caressed the trunk. It felt just like any other tree and a sudden realization dawned on her.

"Is every tree inhabited?" Did she even want to know? The thought of killing a sentient being every time the villagers cut down a tree stirred in her mind, causing her to feel sick.

"No," the dryad shook her head slightly, "just some of the ones in this part of the forest. There's not a lot of us left after..." Her voice chocked up a litttle. Brigitte felt a sudden need to hug the girl, or at least pat her back, but the moment seemed too precious for her to ruin it like that. She stepped back, not wanting to overstay her welcome near the tree. Instead, she examined the elm, trying to ignore how still the dryad was.

The tree wasn't particularly tall nor effuse; if Brigitte didn't know how special it was, she would probably walk past it and not bat an eye. Its trunk was split into forks just above the dryad's head, and every offshoot branched further and further, forming a shape resembling a circle more than anything else. Young twigs were sprouting from the thicker branches and while the leaves still sitting on the tree were shriveled and more brown than green, it seemed like the plant was healthy, ready to live for many more years. Brigitte's eyes focused for a while on one of those smaller twigs, just in reach of someone standing on the ground. The cogs in her brain started turning faster, on a higher gear, just as they would do when she tried to make a particuraly stubborn mechanism work.

"That rule about not going away from your tree..." she began, looking at the dryad's back. "I was wondering what counts as 'a tree'."

That caught the girl's attention; so far she was standing still, with one of her palms pressed to the bark, but now she turned her head torwards Brigitte, curiosity in her eyes. "What do you have in mind?" she asked, a little suspicious, yet too interested not to pry.

"If you took a part of your tree with you, could you go wherever you wanted?" Brigitte looked around. "Maybe not a leaf, because they are everywhere now and you're still bound to this place; besides, they're all fragile now, but... maybe a sprig?" The offer was probably breaking half a dozen different propriety rules and violating another ten, but it was worth a shot. Everything was worth it, if it meant they could go together.

The dryad seemed taken aback by the idea, but collected herself quickly. "I-I tried it, but there are... some rules to it or something... The twig needs to be big enough to sprout roots, and it wouldn't work if I was the one holding it. You'd have to be the one carrying it." Yet, without hesitation, she reached over her head and snapped a twig almost as long as her arm, seemingly without much trouble. Brigitte wasn't sure if her eyes weren't playing a trick on her when she saw the girl shiver a little. "This branch now represents my tree," she said in a ceremonial manner. "Do you swear to protect it?" Her eyes met Brigitte's. Her gaze was sharp and determined; even if she wasn't sure if the idea would work, she wasn't showing it.

"I promise I will protect you," Brigitte bowed her head slightly, but the girl wasn't satisfied with that answer, as she gently shook her head. 

"On your forefathers?" The jokes were over. The vow on one's forefathers, though rarely used nowadays, was bearing a great deal of importance. No one dared to swear it without meaning it, even though the punishment's details were lost in the history.

Brigitte took a step back and put her right hand over her heart. "On my forefathers, I, Brigitte Lindholm, vow to protect you and your tree."

The dryad reached to her, taking Brigitte's calloused hand in her own, so small in comparison, and put the sprig in her hand. "Brigitte." Spoken by the girl, the name sounded both like a soft clatter of metal tools agains each other and a whiff of a gentle summer breeze - familiar and warm. "My name is Hana."

"Well then," Brigitte grasped the twig a little tighter, but still carefully, not wanting it to break, "Hana, I will be your shield."

* * *

"Did you pack everything?" asked Torbjörn for the fifth time in the last few minutes, getting a groan from Brigitte as the answer. She fasened the last of her backpack's straps with an emphatic buck.

"Yes, papa. I couldn't be more ready." A blatant lie, they both knew it, but none of them wanted to say that out loud. Torbjörn nodded, scratching the back of his head, and stepped back, making way for his wife.

"Be careful out there," Ingrid said, wrapping her daughter in a tight hug. Brigitte hugged her back, trying to shoo away the wetness in her eyes. She nodded into her mother's shoulder.

"I'll try my best," she rasped, suddenly emotional. It was for the best to leave before she burst into tears. She wiggled her way out of Ingrid's embrace. "I'll come back as soon as I can." She put her backpack on and offered her worried parents a warm smile.  Her gaze derailed for a brief moment and she looked at Reinhardt, his skin ashen and his eyes sulken. She had to clench her jaw to stop the tears.

The dryad - Hana - was waiting for her on the edge of the forest. Two of Brigitte's nephews were watching her with awe, though they were clearly too scared to approach her. Brigitte smiled at them and gave them both quick hugs. Two children waved at her, when she disappeared between the trees, accompanied by a strange girl in a flowing, green dress.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ❤️
> 
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> twitter: @deadblanket  
> if you liked this fic, please consider buying me a ko-fi maybe: ko-fi.com/fizzyf


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